


Making Rice Krispies

by princess_tones



Category: Tokio Hotel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 06:53:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4425629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princess_tones/pseuds/princess_tones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill seriously thinks this is what they're truly made of. Gustav seems to be the only one who is appalled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Rice Krispies

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't a serious fic. I was feeling a bit young again so I wrote this.

Making Rice Krispies

"You bitch. You were supposed to click the down button. You killed him again!" Gustav yelled, snatching his phone from Georg and scowling at him.

"Dude, I haven't played Snake in ages. Unlike you, I don't still own a Nokia Brick phone in the year of 2015." Georg rolled his eyes and stared at Gustav's phone screen. The drummer had started a new game and was leading the snake around seamlessly, avoiding making it slither into its rear or into the walls. Georg didn't know how he did it.

"Excuse... You. But..." Gustav mumbled, his words coming out stilted. His mind was heavily focused on the game after all. "This phone... Does way more than your iPhone."

Georg laughed slightly. "I have a Samsung."

"Yeah, yeah. They're all crazy complicated. Ugh. Fuck, shit..." Gustav slapped his knee in frustration as the very long snake in his game crashed into its own tail.

Georg bit his lip to retain a laugh. "Chill. You can always...play again."

Gustav growled, his brows rose and he turned his darkening eyes on Georg.

"Shut up!" A voice interrupted. Tom. "I'm listening to Samy Deluxe and Cro!" Tom suddenly shouted from the couch in the corner. He fiddled with one ear bud as he glared at his friends.

Georg looked overly apologetic and Gustav just rolled his eyes.  
"Go to your room if you can't deal with the sexual noises coming out of my mouth." He said, referring to the growl most likely.

Tom's face reddened and he scoffed, jamming the ear plugs back in and turning up the volume on his mp3 player.

Gustav smirked and looked at Georg. "That's how you get Tom to shut up. Just talk about sex."

Georg laughed. "So... You want to play a different game now?"

Gustav pulled his leg up into the sofa and shrugged. "We could play Minesweeper. I haven't played that in ages."

Georg tapped his chin in thought. "I honestly have no recollection of how to play this game." He leaned on his elbow and fist, propped up on his knee as he looked at the game loading on Gustav's screen.

"I think you just leave mine bombs and try to avoid them or something. I don't know. We'll see."

They were into the game for about twenty minutes, intently playing. Georg was now laying with his head on Gustav's lap, holding the phone up whilst Gustav played on it. Tom was still in his seat, bobbing his head in time with a Samy Deluxe tune.  
Georg thought he heard a sound from Gustav's stomach a few further minutes into the game. He turned his head towards it, noting, "I think someone is hungry."

It was about 10:39 am, so breakfast was kinda overdue. "Yeah. Where is Bill?" Gustav asked, breathing out a small sigh and pressing the exit button on the phone. He took it back from Georg, shifting a little underneath him.

Georg sat up, thinking. "He's probably in his bed still sleeping. You know what he's like."

"Yeah. Quite the kitten." Gustav laughed. "Maybe we should punish him by making him come down here and do whatever we say for like... An hour."

"Umm... Hah, I like it. But it's kinda random. He doesn't do things that don't benefit him or that aren't the product of blackmail." Georg reminded.

Gustav nodded, his hand gently rubbing on his stomach. "True. I'll think something up after I eat. That's if I even eat. It's gotta be something good, or else..." 

The door clicked open. The very person of the Gs conversation entered the room. He wasn't in his pyjamas to their surprise, but he was dressed in casual jeans and a t-shirt, makeup off and hair free from products. However, he was wearing an apron, which kind of frightened Gustav as he looked Bill over.

What if... Bill had been cooking? The unspeakable.

"Hey, guys. Want breakfast?" Bill piped up, his sweet, calm voice still managing to make the drummer shudder. It was the words he said, not how he said them.

"What's for breakfast?" Gustav snorted when Georg didn't answer.

Bill reached up and pulled on one of his curling locks of black hair, smiling. "Rice Krispies." 

Georg sighed in relief. "Sure. Get me a bowl."

"Me too." Gustav leaned back again, looping his arms around Georg and drawing him closer so he was laying right against him.

"Sure! Tom?" Bill called across the room to the guitarist who was hunched over so much his head was inches from the floor. The music he was listening to in his ear buds blasted loud enough for all of them to hear.

Tom didn't answer.

"Tom!" Gustav yelled, annoyed - but Tom was too wrapped up in his music. Bill tutted and strode across the room, crouching down before his brother and slipping a hand into his hair. He tugged some braids and Tom's head lifted. He looked like a tired zombie.

Bill pulled out one of his ear buds. "Hey, do you want breakfast? I'm making Rice Krispies." 

Tom scowled and snatched the ear bud back and before cramming it into his ear again he shouted, "Yeah."

Bill smirked down at Tom and stood up straight again. "No need to be so dismissive." He patted Tom's head and walked away from him, back to the door.

"Come down in like ten minutes." Bill called in a melodious tone.

Georg shrugged. "It doesn't take that long to make cereal."

Bill laughed. "It does for me." He walked out, announcing, "later, alligator."

~

Downstairs in the kitchen, Bill tied his apron tighter around his body. He looked in the cupboard for the Rice Krispies. They weren't in their usual place. He checked a few more cupboards, still not managing to find them. He shrugged and headed back upstairs, shouting up to the guys once he was halfway up.

"Guys? Guys!"

Gustav answered after a moment. "Bill?" His voice drifted out faintly from the door upstairs.

"Yeah, Gustav, there's no Rice Krispies left. So I'm going to make some quickly." Bill cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled up.

There was no answer for a minute.  
Then, "Make some?" Gustav again.

"Yep! I already know how to make them." Bill beamed as he answered. He smiled and headed back downstairs, going into the kitchen. He opened the cookery cupboard. He took out flour, butter, sugar and sunflower oil. Bill then grabbed a bowl and proceeded to throw everything in.  
He grabbed a wooden spoon from the draw under the counter and pushed it into the mixture. He stirred it briskly until it formed a dough where he had now reverted to moulding it together with his hands.

He retracted his hands from the bowl and wiped them off on his apron then grabbed a frying pan. He set it on the stove with some sunflower oil in and heated it up on the sixth level.  
Bill turned his attention back to the bowl of dough. "Oh! I forgot. I'm supposed to add air. The thing that makes Rice Krispies crispy is the air trapped in them..."

The singer thought for a moment. "Oh, I got an idea." Bill opened his mouth wide and sucked in a huge breath. He had to suck twice to fill up his mouth enough. 

Just as he was leaning over the bowl of dough and parting the dough ball with his fingers, he heard feet coming quickly down the stairs. Bill blew out his breath into the dough and quickly pushed it back together, hoping to trap the air inside. 

How was he supposed to tell if it was working? The kitchen door flew open when he sucked in a breath again. He didn't turn, just puffed as hard as he could into the dough, scrabbling to seal the air inside.

"What /are/ you doing?" It was Gustav.

He was making strangled sounds as if holding back a sneeze or a laugh.

Bill didn't look up still. He blew out another breath into the dough. He moved the pliable form with his fingers quickly, trapping the air... Hopefully. "Making Rice Krispies." He said before ducking deeper and blowing.

Gustav blinked. The drummer scratched his neck and walked closer to Bill, who seemed to be ripping the dough up now.  
"Uh..." Gustav began.

"Could you pass me some pantothenic acid, please. "

Gustav snorted. "Bill. That's not even what they're made of. What the fuck are you doing?"

"I already told you what I'm doing. Are you deaf or what?" Bill smirked and went to the cupboard. Gustav leaned over the bowl to see the dough ripped up into small pieces no bigger than raisins. He cupped his mouth and a bubble of laughter rose on his lips.

"Seriously, Bill..." He laughed. He couldn't resist looking into the bowl again and laughing at what his friend was doing.

"There's no pantothenic acid..." Bill exclaimed, sounding thoroughly exasperated as if he had expected that to be in their cupboard. "I'll have to leave it out... But I might not get the desired result." He tutted and strode back to the bowl.

Gustav was grinning down at the bowl of small dough pieces, his lips spilling laughs every few seconds. "Bill." He began.

Bill grabbed handfuls of the dough pieces and dropped them into the frying sunflower oil in the pan. They started to sizzle wildly, oil jumping up in tiny air bubbles. 

Gustav raised a finger to make a mocking protest but Bill cut him off. "Which bowl do you want?"  
Gustav slapped the counter and his head dropped down onto his arm when he started laughing again. "Oh dear." He snickered into his arm.

"I'm... Guessing that translates to 'I want the floral bowl'." Bill raised an eyebrow at Gustav's trembling form. He went to fetch the floral bowl from the cupboard. He grabbed some bowls for the others including himself.

Gustav's head was back up again and he looked red in the face from laughing. "Bill! That's not how you make Rice Krispies! What is wrong with you?"

Bill tutted. "I could ask you the same." Was all he said. He pushed Gustav away from the cooking area and turned off the cooker. Bill grabbed the same spoon he had been mixing with and started collecting up his spin on Rice Krispies from the bubbling oil in the pan. He scraped the pan completely so they all tumbled out into their bowls.

Gustav shook his head, still laughing.

Bill had grabbed the milk from the fridge. He poured the milk on the already soggy dough pieces. Gustav shuddered when he looked up and saw the slimy dough pieces floating to the top of the milk, shiny with how soggy and crumbly they were.

"Done." Bill pushed a bowl to Gustav's side of the counter, dunking a spoon into it with a plop. The milk splashed up, the soggy dough balls shifting around the spoon in the swaying milk sickeningly.

Gustav smirked and went out to the stairs, saying, "I'm calling Tom and Georg to see this."

"Yeah. Tell them breakfast is ready." Bill was very much oblivious, for sure.

It wasn't long before the other two came downstairs.

"Look. Look what he did." Gustav clapped his hands laughing as Georg and Tom stopped in front of the counter where their bowls waited.

Tom immediately picked up the spoon and ate. "I don't see any burning food or anything. What did he do?"

Gustav swallowed as he felt a stirring of disgust in his stomach. "That." He pointed gingerly at the fourth spoonful of... Bill Krispies that Tom was moments from devouring.

Georg was eating too, which made Bill smile over at Gustav.

"What's wrong with cereal?" Georg said to Gustav. Tom ate a few more spoonfuls, nodding along to Georg's question.

"He made it." Gustav began. His band members shrugged. "No, but when I say made, I mean he used flour, butter, sugar and... His breath."  
His friends didn't seem bothered.

Tom's spoon clinked against the bottom of his bowl when he finished suddenly. His sleeve wiped across his mouth. "What?" He continued wiping his mouth.

Bill giggled. "He's right. I did make them myself. They're good." He had picked up his bowl and was sneaking small spoonfuls into his mouth.

Gustav peered down into his bowl. The swirling globs of dough clinged to the sides of the bowl soggily. "Why did you breathe in them?" He asked.

"To make them crispy, duh." Tom piped up, making Gustav jump.

Gustav looked at Georg, wondering if this was some twin thing that Tom and Bill usually did to make cereal like this. Georg didn't look up.

"Done." Georg placed his spoon in his now-empty bowl which he took over to the sink. Tom followed him. They both walked out as if they hadn't just eaten something that made Gustav want to hurl.

"Okay," The drummer said, gazing at the door closing behind the two. He then looked back at Bill. "I am seriously weirded out. Who breathes into dough? No, wait, who makes cereal with dough and their own breath? No, no... Wait, who even gives this to their friends? What is wrong with you lot?" Gustav pushed his bowl away and went to the cupboard. "I'm going to find some real food." He snorted and searched the cupboard.

Bill was behind him. "That's how I always make cereal when there's no shop ones left." He smiled when Gustav turned to face him.

"That's disgus - "

" - Ting?" Bill finished for him.


End file.
